


Chrimukkwanzakuh

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [25]
Category: Glee
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Multi, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:52:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2851433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 25. Chrimukkwanzakuh<br/>Prompt: A XXX-MAS STORY: A Chrimukkwanzakuh party is happening and the booze is flowing! There are copious amounts of mistletoe hanging around Kurt's house and those who are under it have to do MUCH more than kiss. Bonus gleegasms for really random couples having very public sexual interactions. Everyone/Everyone Slash/Het/WHO CARES.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chrimukkwanzakuh

It's the close-by moaning that rouses Kurt from his sleep; the two very attractive men attending to him and his very prominent situation in his dream being pushed aside by loud cries and soft whimpers from just the other side of the doorway.

It's the smell around him that however hits him first; the foul odour of sex and booze just _reeking_ around him, _from_ him, is distracting, and making him somewhat nauseous. One thought flies through his mind: 'What is going on?'

It isn't until the countertenor finally opens his bleary eyes that he realizes that he's lying on the hallway floor, an assortment of hazardously thrown shoes just inches from his somewhat naked body. Kurt shivers, not remembering in the least why the hell he's been sleeping where he is, or why he is only wearing his briefs.

It's in that moment that a very shrill voice screams out behind him again, and he remembers, at least partly.

The Glee club had insisted upon getting together for a little holiday celebration (or formally dubbed a ' Chrimukkwanzakuh party' by an eager Mercedes), and Kurt had volunteered his house as Burt was supposed to visit some cousins in the next town over anyway and had encouraged Kurt to bring over some friends so he wouldn't be alone.

The fact that he had been explicitly told that there would be no alcohol allowed during this time had obviously been brushed aside, seeing that the living room was now practically flooded with various bottles that had at one point earlier that evening contained beverages of questionable alcoholic content. Putting it plainly; they were all drunk as hell. And coupling that with the many, _many_ mistletoes Mercedes and Tina had hung up earlier... things had sort of gone _way_ out of control very quickly.

Kurt could distantly – through a rather prominent pounding in his head – remember Santana bouncing above him some time that night, and he could recall getting very intimate with Mike's mouth in the beginning of their little party. The reason to why he was lying where he was at the moment, however, was nothing short of a mystery. As was the explanation to why he wasn't wearing clothes.

Groaning tiredly as he listened to a long series of broken moans Kurt dragged a hand over his eyes before leaning up on his elbow and peeking through one eye at the room around him. All he could really see is shoe after shoe, at least until he twist his head, which is when he can distinguish a small heap of clothes in the corner. 

God, he's gonna kill himself in the morning for the damage he's put his designer clothes through.

It takes Kurt a few minutes before he can stand up without risking falling over (how much did he even drink?), but when he can without clutching at the paneled wall he walks unsteadily over to his – most likely wrinkled beyond repair – clothes. Not bothering with getting all of the layers of his earlier outfit on, Kurt only puts on the pants and what had been the somewhat see-through knitted sweater; not even caring that if squinting people could clearly make out his chest and stomach, deciding to only hold on to the other items. He's only going to see what the other's are up to before going downstairs to his bed anyway. There isn't any need to struggle through putting on his elaborate array of undershirts and various accessories for that.

Fallowing the sound proves very effective when searching for his friends, but Kurt almost wishes he'd gone straight to bed when he finally spots them, gasping quietly to himself and dropping his clothes on the floor beside him. Standing in the doorway he can see Mercedes sitting slumped down in his father's armchair where there is a green twig hanging from the top of it, her chocolate colored legs spread far apart with a very enthusiastic Quinn kneeling between them.

The slurping noises coming from them are absolutely filthy - Kurt blushes just listening to them and has to close his eyes to remind himself that it's actually necessary to breath properly.

But closing ones eyes aren't always that helpful, is it? Especially not so when it was the noises in particular that affected him so greatly in the beginning, seeing that neither of them seemed to even had lost a single article of clothing. Closing his eyes only makes every sound stand out even more, and he has to hurry on walking before his face is the perfect resemblance of a tomato.

It's only the memories of what the other's has seen _him_ do over the course of the evening that keeps him from feeling guilty of catching them in the first place.

Closing the door behind him when he reaches the kitchen Kurt leans against the door, sagging down towards the floor as he sighs deeply in relief, head hidden in his hands. No more public sex, he thinks gratefully - though he is familiar with just how many mistletoes Tina had decorated the house with.

Which is of course the reason to why someone has to moan out a litany of curse words at that precise moment, making his head whip up at lightning speed, already worrying about what he might find. And if Kurt thought catching Quinn eating Mercedes out was embarrassing it has nothing against finding Santana bent over his kitchen table (and he's gonna have to burn that and buy a new one before his father comes home tomorrow afternoon isn't he?), with her left leg lifted and bent beside her by Mike as he steadily thrust himself into her wide open and gaping ass. The fact that Rachel sat curled up at her front and licked gently at her dripping pussy was just the cherry on the top of his sundae of embarrassment, and watching the diva's own finger's most probably fucking into herself – if the motion going on beneath her skirt is anything to go by – was something Kurt was desperate to forget.

Nope, maybe the living room hadn't been such a bad place to be after all.

Kurt quickly scrambles himself up and hurls himself out of the room and back into the empty hallway, the steady staccato of their groans and whimpers fallowing him until he closes that door too.

The pale teen _really_ doesn't want to know what he will find next as he stumbles up the stairs to check the rooms there, but he knows he won't get a moment of sleep unless he knows that every single one of his friends are safe and okay. It would kill him if they found someone drowned in his father's bathtub the fallowing morning, knowing that he might have prevented it by just checking up on them.

Hesitating with his hand on the handle to his father's bedroom door Kurt can clearly hear the sharp shouts coming from inside, and he wonders if this means he can just skip it and hurry back downstairs to his bedroom. In the end however he takes a deep breath and peaks his head through the door, only getting a quick look at Artie blowing Puck before closing it quickly again and turning around.

...Wait a minute...

Opening the door again he takes in the scene before him once more; Artie is lying down on his father's bed as Puck feeds him his thick length time and time again. Artie's hard too, his hand curled around his shaft and stroking in time with the fat cock fucking into his mouth. Beside them lies a forgotten piece of green shrubbery, innocently peeking out from Puck's discarded pants.

This is one sight Kurt doesn't actually mind seeing that much; it's really hot. Also a little addictive. He's hard himself before he's even had a moments thought, but it isn't all that long – really not even a full minute – before he feels guilty for watching them for as long as he has and he closes the door behind him again.

Whimpering to himself as he palms his newly formed erection Kurt slings an arm over his eyes as he leans against the wall. God, had that been fucking hot or what?! He actually really wants to open the door again, just to watch a little bit more, or maybe even joining them – Artie looked like he could use some help, and Puck's ass had looked so damned squeezable! And – and – threesome! An all guy threesome at that!

Somehow Kurt powers through it, dropping his hands determinately at his sides refusing to give in to himself, and is soon moving on, desperate to just check the small office and the upstairs bathroom before going to bed. Where he might or might not do something about the situation in his pants before going to sleep again.

The office is thankfully empty; there's far too much important papers and bills in there that could disappear or simply be destroyed by rampant teenagers driven by lust. The bathroom however... there definitely are someone in there. Maybe even two someones.

And yup. There's Finn, sitting on the toilet seat as Brittany rides him with her back resting against the tall teen's bare chest, a small branch of mistletoe hung above them (tomorrow Kurt is gonna ask Mercedes what the hell she had been thinking there). Brittany's obviously close; she visibly squeezes around Finn on every little drop, her thighs quivering in exertion. And even though Kurt wouldn't mind looking just long enough to figure out just _how_ Finn is gifted down there, he closes the door behind them to give them their privacy.

He is _not_ one of those perverted gay guys that the jocks keep accusing him of being, and he has no intention what so ever of becoming one, Kurt reminds himself as he hurries away.

Walking downstairs Kurt's convinced there's two certain people that he hasn't seen yet, but unless they're in his bed, he really doesn't care. He is so god damned hard it _hurts_ , and walking is just a pain in the ass. If Tina and Matt are so determined to hide out from him then they can go and do just that. Now Kurt just wants to go to bed and rub one out so he can sleep properly and not twist and turn for hours.

However when he reaches the basement floor, he can clearly hear someone shouting absolute _filth_ not even ten feet from him. The cries are coming from his closet, and, just, hell no, that is just _not_ acceptable! Striding over forcefully and ripping the door open he finds himself face to face with a very half naked Tina straddling an equally half naked, but bound up, Matt. She's sitting primly on top of his pelvis as she peers up at Kurt, squinting because of the sudden bright light. Above them a small twig of mistletoe is hanging from the ceiling of his wardrobe, making Kurt wonder if Tina had planned this earlier when she'd rushed around his house hanging them all up.

“Kurt?” she pants out, placing her hand flat against the dark skin of Matt's stomach and rocking herself forth a little, causing Matt to release another spew of non-family friendly curses and pleas. 

Kurt only hums a little in response, too entranced with just how _needy_ Matt is sounding at the moment to remember that he had been angry just seconds ago. Why had he even been angry? Did it really matter in the first place?

“Good you're here Kurt,” Tina continues, picking up her pace as she once again begins to ride the boy beneath her. “Maybe you can figure out a way to shut him up. I swear, if he says just another word...” She looks down threateningly at the boy on the floor, Matt only grinning sheepishly for a moment before throwing his head back and groaning loudly, his bound together hands shaking above his head.

Kurt smirks as he watches the older boy, and steps closer to both of them, pressing a small kiss to Tina's jet black hair before hurriedly stripping off his pants and tug gently at his sinfully weeping length.

“I know the _perfect_ way for him to put his mouth to good use instead...”


End file.
